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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756331">love language</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork'>simplyclockwork</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Love Drabble, M/M, soft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:21:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The love languages of a self-diagnosed sociopath and an ex-soldier.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love language</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmalleyMeetsTibbs/gifts">OmalleyMeetsTibbs</a>.</li>

        <li>
          Translation into Русский available: 
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826129">Язык любви</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn">Little_Unicorn</a>
        </li>


    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For @heyblinken (tumblr), who deserves all the fluff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sherlock's love language is playing John's favourite pieces on his violin. Granted, sometimes he plays these pieces at 3 am, ripping John from a restful sleep, resulting in a shouting match loud enough to wake the dead (and Mrs. Hudson).</p><p>Other times, it's precisely what John needs to pull him from the dark, crushing waves of a nightmare. </p><p>Sherlock never says, "I love you." Not in so many words. What he does do, is smile his pleased little smile when John is clever, fluff the Union Jack pillow in his chair when he thinks John isn't looking, and tidy the sitting room desk when he thinks he is. At night, when he deigns to sleep, he wraps John in a tangle of spidery limbs, taking up the centre of their bed in a bid for closeness.</p><p>When they're intimate, his eyes are dark, locked on John's face, his intense focus a testament to the importance of a shared, carnal moment. The same attention he gives to the detail of a crime scene, he gives to the contours of John's body, the swell of his hip, the hidden starburst scar marring the skin of his left shoulder. </p><p> </p><p><b>*</b> <b>      *</b> <b>       *</b></p><p> </p><p>John's love language looks a little different. Where Sherlock's is frequently quiet, subtle, John's is an explosion, a firing gun, the bite of a bullet into a dying man's body. It's Sherlock's name, screamed from ragged lungs, the pound of feet through dark, damp alleys. His love is in the stitches he sews over wounds, the smell of antiseptic, the careful wrap of bandage over a swollen joint.</p><p>It's a left-behind cane, abandoned and forgotten in the back of a closet. It's recently an upstairs bedroom, fallen to dust and disuse, and a shared bed one floor below. </p><p>John has said, "I love you." More often than not, he uses actions and gestures to communicate the same sentiment. John contents himself with care and comfort, placing unintrusive cups of tea at Sherlock's elbow when he's lost in thought. They are always made precisely how Sherlock likes and never cold. </p><p>Without fail, he takes Sherlock's head in his lap when they fall together into the couch, surgeon's fingers combing through curled locks. A man who once walked through the fires of war, John carries Sherlock in his heart with single-minded, soldier tenacity. As steady and stable on skin as they are on the stock of a gun, John curls fingers over bare shoulders like he would a trigger.</p><p> </p>
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